Because there will always be another struggle...Always. Vlad Rosokosovski-Reclamation Day 1, He had no idea how much those words were true. After several Years of peace, some Corrupt KGB Agents found a sample of the virus. Although Highly mutated it may be, it still made the creatures they wanted. This war will truly test Mankinds metal...
. . . . .
Jaden sat at the table, eating supper with his broken family. His father, who was missing his ring and pinkie finger on his left hand. His mother, who tried to hide the emotional scars of the several weeks she was stuck in the thickest of the zombies. His sister, who did nothing at all to hide the scars and would go on rants randomly, one moment yelling obscenities, the next staring out a window, the next cutting herself, the next pound the wall to dust. And his twin brothers, who never made it. Right in front of his mom, they were taken. Jaden got the least of it, probably to do with the fact that he was the one who had run fromt eh house, slaughtering and killing, running over and-
RING-RING!
Jaden picked up the phone.
"Shalom Alecheym" He answered in Yiddish.
"Guten Tag, fraulein" Sam answered in a joking tone.
"Hey Sam, nows not the best time-" Jaden started.
"No, listen, I got tickets to Aidens band in New York. Wanna Come?" Sam asked.
Jaden looked at his family.
"Sorry Sam, I'm busy all week. Why don't you take your wife, Alexis?" Jaden asked.
"Because I already am." He stated matter of factly.
" Ask Smith or something, I'm Busy."
"Fine, I doubt the'd say yes though." Sam said sourly.
Jaden Chuckled and hung up the phone, walking back to the table to eat more hotdogs.
"Who was that?" His mother asked.
"Major Sam" Jaden Replied.
His father gave him an exasperated look. His father, being military, had a loathing for the people who decided to nuke Chicago, even though it was the only way to make it stop, his father could care less.Oh well thought Jaden as he continued on with the hotdogs.

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Deep thought #1: In the end, everyone dies. No one can outrun time, death itself is always breathing down your neck, just waiting to slip the noose over you. But, in your time of death, what matters is not when or how or even why. What matters is what you do with it. Do you sit down and call it quits, or do you get up, stare your killer and death itself in the face, and laugh copiously, right until the end.

Entering the apartment, he was again taken aback by how beautiful such a building could be when it was only going out for rent. He sighed for both relief and anxiety at the same time. He had to get his apartment set up as quickly as possible, wait for Eve to get here, and then make it to his very first band concert all in the same day. Things were going to be pretty awesome, he figured.

Setting down his bags, he looked out of the window. There wasn't much of a view, since it was simply a street on New York, but it was a comfortable one at that. Heading back out the door to the truck, his cell phone beeped. He answered.

What a way to spend your birthday, Hannibal Smith, formerly of the US Army thought to himself. Leading what could be best described as a raid on an installation.

"Meyer, Mays, Rivers!" He shouted over the din of the snowy wind. "Follow me!"

That was another thing, it was JULY! Even in Siberia it didn't normally snow in July! So much for Global Warming.

The men, all wearing black tactical armor, followed Smith over the hill and into what would've been a killing range where the installation's gun slits were.

After firing off every round in his Uzi -he didn't know why he'd ever lost it or gave it away, but it was the same Uzi that Larson had given him in Chicago- Smith reloaded the light automatic and nodded to the three men positioned at the door.

They set off the C4 and the door exploded inwards.

Inside, the room was soaked with blood, dried blood. Scribbled on the wall in somebody's blood was the phrase: There is no death!

Smith had seen these types of rooms before, but it was in a different continent, a few years back. "Mays, get the rest of the group, heavy support weapons, explosives, all of it!" He ordered one of his men.

"But, sir-"

"That's an order, Agent." He said calmly.

"Yes, sir." The Agent slumped his shoulders, defeated, and left to carry out Smith's task.

"Meyer, Rivers, I need you two to support me down this hallway." He pointed down a hall way where there were only occasional blood spatters. "If it moves, it isn't a friendly." Smith shook his head. "The scientists are either dead or..." He let his voice trail off. "Anyway, our orders have changed, leave nothing but blood and brass in here when we leave."

The two men nodded, wondering if Smith's new attitude was anyway related to his past.

"Now." He whispered, sprinting down the hallway, thankfully there was nothing jumping out at him.

He gestured for Rivers to come forward and for Meyer to stay in place.

"Rivers, we're doing this methodically, we both go in at the same time, shooting anything that moves."

Rivers just nodded, betraying just how young he was. He's older than Larson was, but, damn, he's just a kid!

"Now." Smith accented his order with a slap to Rivers back and the two men charged forward.

At the end of the hallway was a dead body, standing and moving.

"Dammit." Smith cursed, it was just like he thought it was.

Rivers locked up, he'd heard the stories that had came out of Chicago, but had discounted them, now he knew the truth.

After dispatching the wandering zombie, Smith looked down both hallways, spotting an open trap door.

"Drop several HE nades down there." He ordered Rivers, who was too shaken up to do anything else.

---

Gulfstream-25, inbound to Kyoto, Japan1524

Smith shuddered, recalling what happened in Chicago and what happened in Siberia with perfect clarity... shocking clarity.

His work phone rang and he picked it up, a Blackwater Agent was on the other line.

"Agent Smith?" The voice asked.

"Senior Agent Smith, speaking." He answered, wondering what this was about.

"We've reviewed your footage and testimonial, we must say that we are... confused." The agent said. "We thought these were destroyed in Chicago two years ago."

"That's what I'm trying to find out." Smith said, "in fact, I'm going to ring up an... old friend of mine for some answers." He hung up without any more exchange before letting his memory dial in Atrianna's cell number.

After waiting through the voice-mailbox message -did the woman ever answer her phone on time?- Smith left his answer.

"Atrianna, it's Smith from Chicago. I imagine that you'd know where Vlad is, considering that you two were the closest of anybody in Chicago, and I need to get in contact with him, badly. I... saw something in Siberia this morning that could... lead to some complications. I'm inbound to Kyoto International as we speak, so if you could pick me up at the airport or somehow give me some directions, that would be great. Bye."

"Right, um, I'm loading things into the apartment. You know how it is. Well, actually, maybe you don't."

"Yeah, I'm gonna be a little late, dumb traffic. But I'll be there, don't worry. Nothing is stopping us from doing this concert. Can you believe it? The tickets have been flying."

Aiden smiled. His dreams were finally coming together, and for once things were looking up. The Zombie Wars had taken his life off track, along with a majority of people in the US, and he was just glad that things were mostly back to normal.

"Well, I'm going to go get the rest of the stuff into the apartment. Then I'm heading straight over to the studio for rehearsal. Do you have those gloves yet?"

"Yeah baby, I made them last night." She laughed. "Why don't you worry about more than just that for a change?"

Aiden laughed. "You're one to talk. Besides, what else do I have to worry about?"

Sam debated whether or not he should call Smith or not. Smith was still Smith, but now as an Agent, he was even harder to get.
"Oh, just call him sweetie, whats the worst that could happen? He doesn't pick up?" Alexis Ian, wait, now its Alexis Larson, said.
"Well, hon, He could hang up on me, threaten me, all sorts of stuff. He wouldn't, but you asked." Sam returned.
Alexis giggled and laid down under the covers of the bed. "You know, you could make some new friends, take one of them."
Sam laughed a little, that would work, but would require he move into a friend relationship far too fast for anyones comfort. "I'll sell one, that'll do. Hey, wanna play some COD?" Sam said.
Alexis thought and answered "It's not like I got anything else to do." And they played video games to their hearts content.

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Deep thought #1: In the end, everyone dies. No one can outrun time, death itself is always breathing down your neck, just waiting to slip the noose over you. But, in your time of death, what matters is not when or how or even why. What matters is what you do with it. Do you sit down and call it quits, or do you get up, stare your killer and death itself in the face, and laugh copiously, right until the end.

Smith leaned back in his chair as the Gulfstream-25 continued it's flight towards Kyoto International -which was, to the best of his knowledge- where Atrianna was. He allowed his eyes to close before finally letting himself sleep, a luxury he'd denied himself in Siberia for the past day and a half.

He then heard Atrianna herd a family away to check them for bite marks... and, terminate them if there were any...

How can we be human after this?

"Vlad!" He heard, while watching Doctor Ian's leg regrow with morbid fascination, followed by several gunshots. "They were infected!"

Smith's blood ran cold as he surveyed the rest of the Survivors in the subway station. Bite marks!

"Vlad, we either gun them down or get out!" Smith yelled at the Russian... only to watch as a bite mark appeared on his neck, followed by an immediate transformation, along with Atrianna, Larson, Doctor Ian, everybody in the room except him.

"Back!" He yelled. "Back!"

He accentuated this statement with several bursts from his AK into Vlad and Atrianna, but both continued towards him, implacable.

"Come, join us." They said at the same time. "Don't be afraid."

"Back! Back!"

"Agent Smith, wake up."

"Back, back." He weakly protested, his shoulder was being shaken.

"Wha-" Smith blinked away the dark spots from his vision. He was in the Gulfstream, en route to Kyoto, not trapped in a nameless Subway Station in Chicago.

"I'm alright." He said to the attendant who was looking at him concernedly. "Just... memories."

Vladimir Rosokosovski walked down the busy Kyoto street. He was dressed in his typical Russian Uniform, but since it was too hot, he had packed his overcoat in his duffle.

He managed to side-step quickly out of the way of an oncoming car, he found it fascinating that Kyoto maintained its traditional beauty, but was quite modern in certain areas. Vlad was on leave from his boring job in Administrative Command. Nothing happened there, so he was glad that he was given so many passes as it was peacetime. Visiting Attriana and Shayla was always fun. It also kept him on his toes, as a desk job would make a regular person let go of everything, turning a former soldier into a couch potato, but not Vlad. He was too sharp to let that happen.

He stopped for a moment and watched one of the traditional musicians play a song for the tourists, who were practically everywhere. He then tossed a couple coins into the musican's basket and kept on moving, the crowds making room for the burly Russian.

Vlad walked quietly until he reached one of the homes a ways down the street.

He sighed a breath of relief.

"This is it..."

He walked to the door and rapped his knuckles across the door.

you very much If a tree would fall in the woods.....would the other trees laugh at it?

Shayla and Atrianna both smirked at Vlad. "Vlad...Shayla always manages to get you. You need to realize that she will always find new ways to startle you...suprise you...Ambush you..."

"Heh, you two are laughing now, wait until Vlad retaliates, then I will be laughing."

Damn. I didn't think of that. I better watch out for Uncle Vlad...

"Well, how are you all doing?"

"Welll...Shayla managed to break another Boy's fingers yesterday when he got a bit too "grabby" so now we have to explain to the parents why their son's fingers are broken in around four different places....I bought a Bazooka that I've been dying to try out but the police frown on that in the city...other then that nothing really."

Atrianna's cell phone was flashing, indicating that she had missed a call during the ruckus that had ensued when Shayla had managed to jump Vlad.

"Atrianna, it's Smith from Chicago. I imagine that you'd know where Vlad is, considering that you two were the closest of anybody in Chicago, and I need to get in contact with him, badly. I... saw something in Siberia this morning that could... lead to some complications. I'm inbound to Kyoto International as we speak, so if you could pick me up at the airport or somehow give me some directions, that would be great. Bye."

Atrianna sighed.

"Well...it looks like Smith has something to talk about. Vlad, could run Shayla through some drills while I'm gone? She hasn't gotten in her two mile hike in three days so she need to make up for lost time."

Atrianna silently laughed as she watched the Russian rub his hands together in glee.

As the Gulfstream landed, Smith collected the DVD he'd made from his shoulder cam's footage. It held everything from the raid -a fact that Smith was sure would be embaressing for his company- including the desperate shoot out his team had had with the Zombies... and he'd been the only one to walk away from.

Speaking of which, I've got to write out seven letters... He thought sadly; even in the service, the thing he'd hated most was writing out letters to the next of kin.

"We have landed at Kyoto International Airport, all passengers who are getting off here, please depart." The captain's voice cut over the intercom, and Smith tiredly moved his duffel bag into a comfortable position with the belt hanging over his shoulder.

Smith walked into the terminal after clearing customs and immigration -a simple wave of his passport and his company ID did the trick- and went immediately towards the visitors' enterance, thankful that he didn't have anything other than his carry on.

Along the way he passed several doomsayers screaming about how the end of man was near and that the Zombies would rise again and destroy humanity. Smith had never had any patience for these types of people and his nerves were shot. However, he managed to avoid temptation, somehow, and pass them by without any more than a muttered obscenity that he would never repeat in polite company.

He even passed a few advertisements selling a game that was supposedly based off of the events in Chicago. Who would've thought it would take a full two years for them to create a game about that? Smith thought sardonicaly, especially after reading one of the captions: 'Can You Prevent The Nuclear Option?'

He saw her at the enterance, looking a lot like she'd looked once they were done in Chicago. There were some differences, that was to be sure, but, still, much the same.

Raising his hand in greeting, he walked towards her. "Hello again. I wish it was under better circumstances, but my employer sent me to Siberia a few days ago and I found something over there that... well, I'm going to have to wait until I can show it to Vlad at the same time before answering any questions." Not the best greeting, but he was tired and hungry -the damn company jets never had food- and not in the best of moods.

"Anyway, how's your daughter? She must be, what, seventeen? Eighteen?" He querried, making some polite small talk.

Atrianna was wearing black sun glasses when she saw Smith at the entrance to the terminal and she smiled inwardly.

"Hello again. I wish it was under better circumstances, but my employer sent me to Siberia a few days ago and I found something over there that... well, I'm going to have to wait until I can show it to Vlad at the same time before answering any questions."

Atrianna couldn't wait any longer. She grinned at him and gave him a firm handshake.

"It's good to see you to Smith. And yeah...Shayla is eighteen now and she's training with Vlad. That...is a sight that you have to see with your own eyes. It's one of the funniest things I've ever seen."

Atrianna looked over at the game poster and her eyes narrowed behind her sun glasses.

"Hold on just a second. I have to take care of something and then I'll pick you up some food. I've been keeping my eyes on everyone and I know you've joined a Merc outfit. They don't provide good food on the planes...I know."

Atrianna whistled cheerfully as she walked over to the advertisment and examined it a bit more carefully.

Fight alongside with the Valiant Atrianna! Battle Zombies with the undefeatable Vlad! Fight for the survival of your country as the Mysterious Smith!

Atrianna snorted in disbelief and leaned in closer to the poster to read some of the smaller print.

Fight for your very life against the deadly Zombie hive mind and fight to escape Chicago...Can you prevent the Nuclear Operation?

Below that was a picture of Atrianna blasting a group of Zombies with a Minigun and Aiden with glowing green eyes. Below that was a picture of Vlad and Smith fighting back to back each armed with pistols and then there was a picture of Sam arming the bomb.

Alright...this is going down right now.

Atrianna whistled as she pulled down the poster, rolled it up and threw it in a nearby Trashcan.

Smith openly chortled when he read the part about the mysterious Smith. He wasn't that mysterious, no more so than the average Joe that you met on the street, he just didn't talk about himself, that's all.

Then it caught up with him. "Wait, your daught is training with Vlad?" It was too much for him, the stress of the past few days coupled with the poster made it the funniest thing he'd heard in a long time.

After getting his laughter under control, Smith followed Atrianna out of the airport. "So," he asked. "How are you and where's your car?" He chuckled a little. "As much as I'm sure you can walk darn near everywhere in Kyoto, you didn't seem like the type to not have a car... back then, and you don't seem like the no-car type no either." He fixed her with a look that had broken more than a few Jihadist's resolve, tempered, of course, with the friendship that almost every one from the Chicago Incident had shared after living through the incident.

I'm fine...Nearly fell over laughing earlier but I'm fine now. Shayla...Somehow managed to position herself above the door and she jumped on Vlad's back when he walked through the door...the look on his face was priceless.

Atrianna pointed at a gun-metal grey hummer with blacked out windows that had two turrents on top of it.

"...That is my car. Custom built to fight the undead should they ever show their ugly faces around here again."

"As much as I'm sure you can walk darn near everywhere in Kyoto, you didn't seem like the type to not have a car... back then, and you don't seem like the no-car type no either."

Atrianna grinned. "I did have a car back in the day...but Vlad ended up blowing it up with an RPG the first time we met as I recall. Now that was a waste. That prius was nearly brand new from what I could tell."

Atrianna pulled open the front door and ushered Smith in then got into the driver's seat.

"Tell me...Have you ever thought about hunting down and killing Larson? It's crossed my mind a few times...What do you think?"

The hummer sped out into the road and Atrianna began looking for a spot to pick up something to eat for Smith,

Smith almost choked as Atrianna casually mentioned another rise of the Zombies. If only you knew... he thought to himself. He buckled up and dropped his duffle in the back seat.

"Wait, you daughter got above the door and got the drop on Vlad? The man's getting rusty in his old age!" Smith commented, fully ignoring the fact that Vlad was only a year older than he was.

"Larson?" Smith shook his head. "No, in fact I got him out of a court-martial in my last year with the service. Turns out the Government wanted to make an example of anybody who nukes an American City..." He grinned. "I'm sure you can figure out where this is going.

"Anyway, I stood trial in a closed session and, after about a week, I was finally alowed to mention that the Zombie's Hive-Mind was located in Chicago, but nobody really knew where. That quickly cleared up the issue, along with the fact that there was practically nobody in Chicago at the time.

"So, after that I got a chance to go over a few files and I noticed that Larson's was in there, he was going to be brought up for the same charges I was. To make a long story short, I managed to convince the Judge Advocate General that not only was Larson intregal to the desctruction of the Zombies, but that he should be given a medal. Congress almost gave him the Medal of Honor, but decided at the last minute that the voters wouldn't look to kindly on them giving a medal to the man who destroyed Chicago."

Smith than smiled evily. "Did I mention that I may have started a rumor or two about Larson setting off the nuke?" It wasn't really talked about, but nobody in the Mustang knew who had set off the nuke, for all Smith knew it might've been him, but he had his suspicions...

"As for you killing him? Go ahead, and let me get it on video. I'm sure it could win an award on a show like 'America's Funniest Home Videos', God knows that the show is filled with idiots hurting themselves and that's not to different."

They stopped and grabbed some food. It was quick, it was tasteless, and God only really knew what was in it, but it managed to fill Smith's stomach for the time being, and that was just perfect for him.

"So, anything I should know about before I walk in? Your daughter trying to get the drop on anybody walking in, or is it just for Vlad?"

((Hey Scar, sorry, but you should probably check with Jedi_Man before posting the tank entry into the thread))

Vlad was hiking up one of the hills in a nearby park, not a hard one at all, just a light 2 miler.

He looked back at Shayla.

"Come, come, this is easy, just keep a good pace....you are not the one carrying the 50 pound pack..."

He was wearing his duffle, with 50 pounds worth of rocks, that he had gotten from a...questionable source{the neighbor's yard}. He didn't like to take it easy on himself, as he was no longer in the field, and sitting instead at a desk.

"So, after this, would you like to practice calisthenics, or hand-to-hand combat?"

you very much If a tree would fall in the woods.....would the other trees laugh at it?

(Wait, just a question. When did I get in Kyoto, I wasn't with Smith. ALso, My character is cautious about being anywhere near Attrianna. He's still pretty sure she's waiting for a chance to shove a few tons of C4 down his throat)
Sam walked around the streets of New Chicago. It was still relatively small, roughly 10,000 people lived there, no more no less. It was only three miles away from the crater that used to be Chicago. Sam was here to meet with Jaden, hopefully. While sitting at a cafe, he saw a poster for the game based on the first war. Sam smirked The things people'll do for money. Sam had told them, quite frankly and openly that in order for them to use his likeness and his voice, they'd have to pay him 20%, and give the rest to everyone else in the group, and to the creation of New Chicago. Seeing as how the game will probably sell easily into the 12 digit range, he'd be pretty rich, as would his friends. They'd prabably be pissed off that he'd approved of the game, but people need money, and some people make money by making games.
Besides, noone would know, and as long as they kept to the true story, not making Attrianna some Ripped She-male Mercenary, or Aiden some sickly half-zombie, or Himself some scheming villain intent on blowing up Chicago, there'd be no lawsuits.
Jaden's probably not coming. Sam sighed and got up, paying his bill, and trying to avoid the glares of praise and dissaproval. Most were of dissaproval, nobody bothered to check the phone record, to see that noone even called his phone, that the Nuke going off was a fluke, probably just some zombie tripping over the right cords or something.
Sam had a loathing for people who never got the full story. They never even bothered to check and judged him on the half-story they had. He hated the ones who hated him even more. He never even bothered to defend himself, with the whole "Vlad said that the Hive-Mind, which was essentially a giant computer, would over-load if enough zombies died at one point. The thing would be trying to re-assign millions of zombies, while simultaneously recording millions of zombies death. It would short-circuit and end the whole thing." What really made Sam laugh was how he got the blame. Ofcourse, not Vlad, who not only created the virus, but also the nuke. Not Attrianna, who he's sure he could find a way to blame her later, not Aiden, who attacked the entire group and carried the nuke. But the 19 year old lieutenant in the Army, who new something about Improvised Explosive Devices.
"What a wonderful world!" Sam said as he went home in his Silver Porsche.

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Deep thought #1: In the end, everyone dies. No one can outrun time, death itself is always breathing down your neck, just waiting to slip the noose over you. But, in your time of death, what matters is not when or how or even why. What matters is what you do with it. Do you sit down and call it quits, or do you get up, stare your killer and death itself in the face, and laugh copiously, right until the end.

Vlad was in a rather humiliating position, with Shayla holding him in a headlock.

"Attriana knows her stuff and taught you well..." He choked out.

"...but she didn't teach you everything."

He then used his size and weight to stand up and flip Shayla over his shoulder. Where he quite literally switched their positions, using his left to put her into a deathlock{after 10 seconds she would go unconcious} and used te right hand to whack her on the back, which was also meant to symbolize a knife. He tried to keep the simulations correct, in this case, the person attacking Shayla would be armed.

"Be careful, Shayla, always be ready for the unexpected."

you very much If a tree would fall in the woods.....would the other trees laugh at it?

Smith chuckled as he recognized all of the Russian Curses. "Well, since your daughter is... constrained by Vlad, I'll have to get in your house before your daughter decides it would be great fun to drop in... literally."

Grabbing his duffel from the Hummer, Smith followed Atrianna into her house and, after dropping the duffel by the door until later, yelled out. "Vlad, you shluha vokzal'naja, I found something in Siberia that will pique your interest!" After patting his tactical vest to make sure the DVD was still intact -it was- he turned to Atrianna and whispered conspiratorially, "how long do you think it will be before he reacts to that bit of Russian?"

"Watch my language?" Smith gave Vlad a look that told him quite plainly that he thought he was crazy. "I heard what you were yelling earlier, besides, I learned how to curse from the best, some of the Soldiers under your command.

"Anyway, I'm doing pretty good. A little tired, but that's normal after coming from Siberia... at least every time I've gotten back from Siberia I've been tired!" He chuckled a little. "How are you doing you old fossil, you must be, what, fifty?" He said to the older Russian -fully aware that he was only 41 compared to Smith's 40.

(I just searched up that swear word. ROFLMAO!!)
Sam sat down at home playing some video games. Alexis was in the other room, owning him better than she usually did. Jaden was online, busy with the simultaneous counter-attack Sam and Alexis where giving him. Sam paused his game, walking into the kitchen to grab himself some food and juice. Something slammed into the window.
"Jesus!" Sam exclaimed as he looked up. A crow had slammed into the window. Sam chuckled at it as it cawed and flew away. Looking where it had been, something was moving through the field next to his house.
"Jaden, trying to scare me again. Nice try" Sam thought aloud. The thing that was meandering through the field stumbled out of the corn rows. Sam's eyes bulged, it was missing it's neck.
"Holy S***!" Sam swore, louder than he meant to.
"Sam! The kids!" Alexis scolded from the other room.
"Lexy, we've got a problem."
Alexis walked into the room, looking over his shoulder and seeing the thing stumbling around like a drunk, except with more blood.
By the time she had spewed forth her stream of expletives, He had run back into the Living Room to grab some guns. Sam stepped out from the house to fire a round in the air, which should scare it if it wasn't one of them.
It did nothing. Sam sighted in on the head, firing once and scoring a headshot, instantly killing the beasty.
"I'm calling Vlad." Sam told Alexis as he stepped inside.
Speed Dial #3. Vlad.
Ring Ring
Ring Ring
Ring Ring....

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Deep thought #1: In the end, everyone dies. No one can outrun time, death itself is always breathing down your neck, just waiting to slip the noose over you. But, in your time of death, what matters is not when or how or even why. What matters is what you do with it. Do you sit down and call it quits, or do you get up, stare your killer and death itself in the face, and laugh copiously, right until the end.

It was a dark night, so dark you couldn't see your own hand in front of you. The cool wind danced gently through the bushes as a man pulled up on the side of the road. He had a flat tire and had to get out of his car. The man shivered as he stepped outside. Of all the days and at this time too. This man was in a hurry. As the wind pushed the bushes harder the man began to move quicker. He felt an all to familiar shiver run down his spine. His hands began to shake as he fiddled with the tire. The wind began to roar now, and the man jumped. Something wasn't right, something was here. The man turned around and saw nothing but blackness. He turned back slower now glad that nothing was there only to be cut down. The thing that stood above him diced him again and let black tentacles wrap him. The beast consumed him whole and darted away...Frank Wilson jolted out of bed with his heart begging to get out.

"Vlad, Thank God it's you! Listen, I have Major Uber problem!!! It has to do with the uhhh...Virus. There's one in my front yard now, freshly dead." Sam all but yelled into his phone, the rush of killing still flowing through him.
"Damn it! It's happening all over again. Vlad, What do we do? Alexis just confirmed the virus is present, if... ummm, slightly changed." Sam explained.

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Deep thought #1: In the end, everyone dies. No one can outrun time, death itself is always breathing down your neck, just waiting to slip the noose over you. But, in your time of death, what matters is not when or how or even why. What matters is what you do with it. Do you sit down and call it quits, or do you get up, stare your killer and death itself in the face, and laugh copiously, right until the end.

"The Hive Mind is dead, along with the better half of the horde, the nuke killed even more, but there is still a very small percentage of the zombies that managed to survive. Their as dumb as doorknobs without the Hive Mind....just kill it. They may have mutated over the years, but....this is big...this is why the American's quarantined old Chicago...get in contact with the authorities...we'll need their help. I'll talk to Smith and Attriana. I've got to go...just kill the damned thing..."

He hung up and looked at Smith and Attriana.

"Comrades...we've got some trouble."

you very much If a tree would fall in the woods.....would the other trees laugh at it?

Sam looked at the corpse in his front yard, the bullet hole in its head not oozing anything but coagulated blood.Burn it.
Sam found some vodka in his house, a few matches lying around, and lit the corpse on fire. The best way to dispose of a virus, or hostile organism.
Jaden was walking down the road when he noticed the smoke.Hmmm, Sam's having a BBQ and he didn't invite me? How-ude! (Jar-Jar Binks) Jaden walked into the driveway to find a small, fire, not larger than a person, the smell of burnt hair and flesh hung in the hair, tangible. Sam sat on the porch, staring at the fire with his JAE Gen 2 M1A1 rifle on his lap.
"Hey, Sam, whatcha doin?" Jaden implored.
Sam jumped and aimed the rifle at Jaden before realizing who it was who was talking to him.
"Oh, hey, uhh. Yeah." Sam stuttered out.
"Whats that Godawful stench? It smells like one of the... well, you know." Jaden stated.
"The fire, Jaden, What did you think I was doing, Havin a barbecue?" Sam asked.
"Well... Wait! Thats one of them?!?! HOLY HELL!" Jaden exclaimed.
Jaden ran home right there to load his guns and warn his parents. Sam sat there, fingering the trigger of the rifle, absent mindedly remembering the war...
Delilah lay there, sprawled at weird angle, stuck in a pool of her own blood. Max, crushed by a brute, also dying in his own blood. Sam's brother, dying from saving his family, also in his own blood. Oh, the irony of his life.

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Deep thought #1: In the end, everyone dies. No one can outrun time, death itself is always breathing down your neck, just waiting to slip the noose over you. But, in your time of death, what matters is not when or how or even why. What matters is what you do with it. Do you sit down and call it quits, or do you get up, stare your killer and death itself in the face, and laugh copiously, right until the end.

Frank Wilson shot up a second time from his hellish slumber, this time for good. He edged his way out of his bed slowly and looked at the clock. The clock flashed 2:36 on the screen. He was waking up later and later each day. He smelled like a wet dog so before doing anything he got a shower. After putting on some jeans and his favorite hoodie he walked into his kitchen. He opened the fridge and pushed past most of the items until his eyes saw a chicken leg on a plate. He snatched it up and moved into the living room of his apartment. He turned on the tv and his eyes were glued to the news. He liked to know what was going on in the world, that way he could be prepared for anything. Another story came up about a missing person. A man named Allan Mayson went missing last night. All that was found of him was two shoes and his car that was parked alongside the road. Frank stared at the car and noticed only three tires were on the car, the fourth one was no where to be seen.

My dream...I killed a man in my dream who was changing a tire. This can't be the same guy, but I thought the explosion took all that away. I'm cured now, I'm not a nightmare anymore. I just need to get out of this place.

Panic quickly rushed through his body and he dashed into his room. He found a white scarf and wrapped it around his mouth. He opened up his window and dropped down to the floor. He went for a little run through New Chicago. He started doing his favorite activity, parkour. He found a trashbin that was under a gas station. He jumped onto the trashcan and than onto the station. He felt himself gain some speed along the way. He leaped off the gas station and onto the roof of a small home. he saw another building a little further away and decided to go for it. He leaped and felt his body glide slightly to the other building. he had never done this well before. He looked down and noticed a silver porsche zoom through the streets. After admiring the car fro a few seconds he decided to give chase to it, to give him something to do. He began to jump from rooftop to rooftop, trying to keep up with the porsche. He felt himself gaining speed slightly as he jumped on the buildings. Even with his speed, he lost the car after a while. He kept moving though, enjoying his energy boost. He ran for what felt like quite a long time. He eyed a tree and jumped for it, but he missed it by a hair. His body started to fall but somehow his hands grasped the tree. He looked back to see not his hands but two blackened claws that had replaced his arms. He screamed and fell to the ground with a loud thud. The claws disapeared within seconds and he turned to see a burnt body. He looked up to see a man with a gun.

Sam looked at the man, He'd fallen from a tree... That was twenty yards away. Only Aiden was able to do that, Unless he's like Aiden!
Sam looked at the man, he'd be sore, but whatever major wounds he may have would be healed almost instantaneously thanks to the virus. Sam all the same put a stint on his leg's and bound his arms, having noticed the claws.
It probably wouldn't stop him if he really needed to go use the toilet, but more likely than not, the man didn't know that. He placed the man on his couch, being sure to keep him as comfortable as possible.Great, another hybrid. Wonder if he's connected to the Hive-Mind, or whatever these things have now. Aiden'd be pretty surprised to hear he's nto alone in the world of oddities.

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Deep thought #1: In the end, everyone dies. No one can outrun time, death itself is always breathing down your neck, just waiting to slip the noose over you. But, in your time of death, what matters is not when or how or even why. What matters is what you do with it. Do you sit down and call it quits, or do you get up, stare your killer and death itself in the face, and laugh copiously, right until the end.

The group opened fire on the man who was just dead a few minutes ago. He went down as he did before but this time he stood back up. The man's hands turned into claws and he attacked the group. He cut them open one by one before escaping into the city. More Russian soldiers cornered him. He turned to the leader and lunged at him, splattering blood all over. Frank shot up from the couch his limp body was resting on and popped the claws again. He had broken some item that had tied up his arms. He jumped back and watched the claws turn back into his hands.

"Where am I, how did I get here!" He yelled, unsure if anyone was in this house.

"It's about the Virius, isn't it?" Smith asked immediately after Vlad hung up. After the Russian's nod Smith cursed, violently. "Larson?" He asked before continuing on without an answer, "dumb question, who else would it be?"

He opened up his vest's pocket and withdrew the DVD. "Vlad, for the purposes of this video you are not a representative of your government and you do not work for the government, you are here simply as a tourist, understand?" At the Russian's nod Smith turned to Atrianna.

"I'm assuming you have a DVD player or the like around here. We're going to need to watch this video, stat."

((@Jedi, glad you read up on it. As I was searching online that one stood out to me, I _had_ to use it. And, Cyborg, nice to see you again... even though it's odd to not think of you as Kevak ))

Sam merely looked at the Half-Zombie. "You fell from a tree, remember? More than likely, you've broken your legs, which should've healed a couple hours ago. You can take the stints of your legs, their fine. BUt, you can not move from this room without my express permission. The last time I trusted a Half-Zombie to freedom, he nearly choked me to death. He lost all of his memory later and became a new guy, but still, the facts remain that If you are currently infected, I need to make sure you get nowhere near the kids, or my wife." Sam said. "Capishe?"
He kept his rifle on his lap the whole time, not aiming at the man, but if he made the wrong move, it wouldn't take him long to pull his rifle up and pop a round off.

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Deep thought #1: In the end, everyone dies. No one can outrun time, death itself is always breathing down your neck, just waiting to slip the noose over you. But, in your time of death, what matters is not when or how or even why. What matters is what you do with it. Do you sit down and call it quits, or do you get up, stare your killer and death itself in the face, and laugh copiously, right until the end.